Mistaken Bloodlines
by Collided-Chaos
Summary: Hades finds out that his daughter isn't his but someone else's beyond measure.Seph tries placing the peace back into order but fails after Hades questions whether shes his own wife. A could've been family is broken by appearances and suspicions.
1. Author's Note

_**Author's Note**_

I do not own Greek Myth. because I'm not even Greek (unless I own no knowledge that I am) but either way, I didn't create what happened to characters for them to be written and memorized by text throughout History.

Something I can admit to owning is my imagination. I looked up Persephone a bit more thoroughly and other than Adonis, Hades, and that sad, sorry heck of a king Pirithous, it was said that Zeus knocked her up and I was surprised that even tho Zagreus passed, Melinoe didn't.

A true Ghost rider by my sight, the Ghost Ambassador of all time has found her way into my imagination to explain in my ways of what may have occurred between the family after she was born.

I utterly hate how History tells us one sentence rather than the emotions or events that occured at the time but then again, thats what a writer is for *wink wink*

If you're a critic, then I thank you for showing up!

_*gives a front seat, pillow, cup of apple cider off of the house and Greek chocolates*_

And to everyone else, I hope you find my writing pleasurable.

_*gives basket of Greek fruit, a leaf crown, lotus bouquet, and Greek aged-wine*_

Happy reading!


	2. Prologue

Running with every wisp of living breath she possesed in such a blank place, fear and hope streamed from Persephone's leaf green eyes, bits of her tears slapping the dry, deserted soil. Her sprinting calculated up to a complete scampering around Olympus whole.

The Styx was the only proof of life (or motion) than herself that was valid of help. The presence of Zeus's character in the Underworld struck nymph blue lightning against the scarlet ceiling, cracks of white producing as leftover scars against the now burgundy beaten sky. If she obtained the knowledge, Persephone without question would have known that in the Underworld, lighting never struck unless he was here. But since she didn't, she now knew off of her personal experience.

When in company to the Acheron River, one of five rivers of the Styx, Persephone groaned at the growing ache that pounded inside her head, every object in sight throbbing by one body, parts of a common pulse. The Acheron wasn't the worst, but in the predicament she lagged throughout, Persephone cursed at its powers to others when near.

Dragging her limp body forward with nausea on the verge of creating a vomit puddle, Persephone swallowed greatly at the sight of a river boat, bobbing around at dock. The feeling of her heart skipping beats matched the seconds that were taken away from her as she slowed down, her whole world now a blurry, faded universe as uneasy laugh rumbled from out of the fear-closed throat of the Goddess. All of the servants dispersed into thin air, leaving her to be ruined by _him_.

Vaulting with a step of faith up to her wooden savior, Persephone's back's middle was assumed with a brutally powerful blow, the Acheron adding more agony down her spine, the Earth providing a kiss for her beaten features from an earlier period of the day she survived. The throbs caged inside her head banged harder now, the sound of base drums struck to their loudest sending another supply of tears to be released from Persephone's watery eyes.

The stroking of a hand at her thigh worked its way up Persephone's inner high area as waves. It would lightly push forward until receding back but keeping in mind that its presence was still there by crawling forward once more but farther. The small touch was enough to buckle Persephone's knees.

The same hand that caressed her bottom was that of the murderer of Hade's favorite dress. To Persephone, it was a simple one that tightly hugged her breast in a deathful way, much more skin shown than your average corset with it stopping as half of a dress below her small rump in appreciation to Zeus' intentions of stripping her, the other half of her dress that kissed the floor with desperation torn and gone. In other terms, such as to _Hades_, it was a simpler replica of her wedding dress, just a bit more up to _his_ standards.

Grabbing a fist full of sand, Persephone rolled over in a short moment of seconds to retaliate her foe with the burning sands of the Acheron, a laugh erupting until he struck her with the back of a brawny hand, a stinging pain the size of a peach thudding to its own heartbeat at her small cry. Zeus threw himself atop of the frail maiden, securing her tawny wrist above her head with great thirst as a stir occurred in his lower areas. Persephone, hard as she tried, wiggled, twisted, and rotated her thin figure underneath his with growls of anticipated cold murder. You couldn't kill a God but knowing she could hurt enough to place him on the edge of his life bed to be kicked off and caught by death was good enough. She hoped Hades would allow her the grading of this God's tragic soul.

Chuckling, Zeus' eyes seeped into every curve and shine of the Goddess' body from the small rocks producing underneath her top to the loose soil brown mane that frame her sweaty face, a pair of jades raging with a glare of frustration up at him from within her light wooden skin, smooth as it was by sight. Zeus didn't own a keen eye of Athena, always able to point out things, but with Persephone beneath him, the sleek skin he felt at her wrist, and earlier from around her legs, before she discovered his true identity, created a craving to see if every part of her was the same the rest which he did so starting on her neck before being stopped by the cherry blossomed fragrance along the top of a sight of pair of protruding knockers. A whimper thundered at the top of Persephone's throat, her clenched teeth unable to secrete it.

"Painful isn't?" Zeus squeezed her wrist until she gave eye contact, using one hand to hold them and the other to caress her side with affection. Unable to cringe at his touch, Persephone muttered a few unwomanly words that would scare even the biggest of the Titans back to his rightful place in Tartarus. "Hades just leaves a nice little toy on a shelf to dust away once more ." He purred with mockery, his hand dropping below the below of the lines of parted cloth, strands of what was leftover hanging over the skin of her thighs. "But I think we can still make use of it." Zeus whispered with the venom of a snake fulfilling each word as a promise rather than a simple statement.

Proving his point right, Zeus' hand went from above Persephone's thigh to between them, his fingers finding their way to a special door only to crack it wide open. Gasping inaudibly, Persephone gritted her teeth against the torture she was given, an access of air slipping between his fingers into her. She slowly felt her backside grow numb, a crack slithering up around her soul as it worked its way to her heart.

Hades held a recent reprimanded argument with his wife, sending her on the edge for a total of three weeks which equaled an entire month for his wife for no affection of any kind to be given other than greetings. She tasted her own Godly blood by the extra throbbing in her bottom lip from her chewing upon it. She may have cried with Zeus smiling at his artwork, but she refused to sob, keeping whatever pride she had left of her.

Prizing what he'd done so far, Zeus removed his hand before replacing it with something else that of a greater pain burden that would not only break Persephone's body, but her soul permantley.


End file.
